


stop desire

by consultingwives (westminsterabi)



Series: Quinlock Shorts [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Femlock, Rule 63, Unilock, john has a bad crush, sherlock has a crush too, unifemlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:28:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7173743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westminsterabi/pseuds/consultingwives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m relieved you don’t hate me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I would never hate you, John. You’re one of the cleverest people in that lecture.”</p><p> </p><p>“Besides you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, yes. Besides me.”</p><p>--</p><p>John thinks that Sherlock Holmes, the hot girl in her chemistry lecture, hates her guts. She couldn't be more wrong. Songfic based on Stop Desire by Tegan and Sara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stop desire

I hate the way that her hair curls at the nape of her neck; I hate the way that she sticks a pencil through it and bites her lip during lecture. I hate the way that her hand shoots up whenever the professor asks a question and the way that she dances in her seat until the professor finally raises her eyebrows and says “Yes? Miss Holmes?”

_I kept denying, begging for attention._

I hate how pretty she looks when she’s onstage. I hate that every time I have a mind to talk to her, she grimaces and stalks away as if she’s smelled something bad. Namely, me.

 

_Dropping hints, hoping for some tension._

 

I hate the way that sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night imagining her doing unspeakable things to me and I have to finish myself off so that I don’t walk around impossibly horny for the entirety of the next day.

 

_Getting tired of making all this racket._

Today in lecture she looks back at me and turns away sharply when she sees that I’ve noticed. I grit my teeth, because if I were courageous I’d run up to her after class and say _look, Sherlock Holmes, we don’t know each other but I’ve had the world’s worst crush on you all year just so you know._ And then maybe add that I’m aware she hates me, I just wanted her to know. Maybe I’ll be able to move on after that. Or something. (Find a girlfriend—tinder is good for that, or so I’ve heard)

 

_Waiting on you to get your ass in gear._

 

Just fucking do it, John. Just _fucking do it._

 

“That’s all for today, remember to revise for your exam on Tuesday, I’ll be testing you on empirical formulas.”

 

“Sherlock!” Just as she’s leaving the room, I call her name.

 

Her head snaps back and her eyebrows are raised. She sees me and her cheeks turn bright pink. She’s standing in the doorway and it takes her a moment to spot me while surveilling the crowd.

 

_I didn’t wanna be so invested._

 

“What do _you_ want?”

 

My heart starts beating into overdrive and I can feel my fingers start to tingle—adrenaline rush. Get a grip.

 

“Shall we walk?”

 

She squints at me. “Excuse me?”

 

“Shall we walk? It’s a nice day out.”

 

_I played it cool then I overdressed it._

 

She smirks, as if she’s bemused and bites her lip. God, she’s so cute. So cute. Fuck. “I suppose?”

 

_I was there, I was tired of this._

She wears a leather knapsack over her left shoulder, and she scrambles around for her phone and checks the time. “Yeah, I suppose. I’ve got time.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

She stares straight at me and tilts her head to the side. Her mouth opens, then closes, and then opens again. “Where did you have in mind?”

 

“Oh, wherever.”

 

_Nonsense when you pretend you don’t._

“I’ll follow you then.”

 

“Or you could just walk next to me.”

 

She shrugs, full-bodied, Gallic.

 

“Look I know you don’t like me—“

 

“John. I never said that. Where the hell did you get that idea?”

 

I look back down at my feet. “I dunno. I just. Every time you look at me, you look away as soon as you’ve realized that I’m looking back. You scowl at me _all_ the time as if you think I’m a waste of oxygen or, or whatever.” I grit my teeth and look back up.

 

_Get me, feel me, want me._

“Um, John?”

 

“Yeah?” I look back up at her face. She’s turned pink again, and she’s backing away.

 

“That’s not why I look at you funny.”

 

“It’s not?”

 

“Definitely not.”

 

_Like me, love me, need me._

 

My fingers are probably curled into my palm so harshly that they’re drawing blood. Nothing’s wet. Yet. But it’s probably getting there.   


“Shall we?” I jerk my head towards the door and instead of answering she starts over towards it. Everyone else in our lecture left long ago, and the corridor is deserted. Sherlock pushes the massive door open and holds it for me.  “Thanks.”

 

“No problem.”

 

_Tonight, you’re fuel for my fire._

 

It’s drizzling out on the quad and I feel like an idiot. “Well, so much for good weather.”

 

“It’s fine,” she says, reaching into her bag and pulling out an umbrella.

 

“I’m relieved you don’t hate me.”

 

“I would never hate you, John. You’re one of the cleverest people in that lecture.”

 

“Besides you.”

 

“Well, yes. Besides me.”

 

“Glad to know you’re so modest.”

 

She snorts and looks down at me and my damp hair before blinking and sputtering something about being sorry. She shifts the brolly over to her other hand so that it covers both of us and smiles back down at me. “There, sorry.”

 

“Me too, by the way. That was just a joke. I mean, you are brilliant.”

 

Her nostrils flare and she bites her lip. “It’s nothing.”

 

_You can’t stop desire, oh oh oh oh oh._

 

“No really, you have this amazing intuition about the problems that the professor gives us. You just seem to _know_ even if you don’t know, or at least you know how to go at it while the rest of us just stare at the test paper and pray for divine intervention. Last exam you were the _only_ person who filled up all the time because the rest of us just had no idea what to do with those problems. You’re brilliant.”

 

I might be mistaken, but I think I heard a tiny whimper escape her mouth while she bites her lip again and stares into my eyes as much as she can without walking straight into a street lamp.

 

“John, the reason that I never look at you—“

 

“Well, only when you think _I’m_ not looking.”

 

“Well, that too.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I just, well. Um. Why did you invite me on this walk?”

 

It’s now or fucking never, John Watson.

 

“Because I’ve had the world’s worst crush on you for about six months.” There. It came out faster than I meant it to—but still, the words are out there.

 

Her eyebrows practically disappear into her hair. “Oh, thank god.”

 

_Stop desire, oh oh oh oh oh._

 

“What?”

 

“I suppose then, I’ve had the world’s worst crush on you for six months and a day.” She grimaces.

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“So this whole time? I thought you hated my guts?”

 

“Precautionary measures.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Falling in love sucks.”

 

“Even if it’s requited?”

 

“Well, then it doesn’t suck quite as much.” She looks down at me and grins. “Maybe it doesn’t suck at all. I’ve never had that happen.”

 

I smile back.

_I tried, but you’re fuel to my fire._

 

“So, could I maybe kiss you now or something.”

 

“Please,” she says, and I fall silent. All I can hear is the pitter-patter of the rain on her umbrella. I stand on tip-toes up to her mouth and she closes her eyes and our mouths meet and I can feel electricity through my body and down to my pelvis while I imagine where this could go—us together, us sitting next to each other each day in lecture, us calling each other _girlfriends_ and everything that comes after that.

 

_You can’t stop desire, oh oh oh oh oh._

 

She leans into me, deepens it, starts moving her mouth on mine while I place my hands on either side of her head to steady myself. This may be one of the best feelings of my life—I’ve only ever kissed boys before and this is a hundred times better.

 

_Stop desire, oh oh oh oh oh._

 

Everything in my body feels as if it’s a thousand times more sensitive than usual, and I’m hyperaware of where Sherlock’s body is next to mine, the way she’s pressing against me and me against her. When it finally dissolves into shorter, smaller kisses, she comes up for breath and says, “Well, that was unexpected.”

 

“Not quite what you had in mind when I asked if you wanted to go on a walk?”

 

“Not quite, but I’m glad.”

 

_In a minute, I’ll be hoping that you’re outside._

 

She takes my hand in her free one and locks our fingers together, looking at me as if to ask _is this okay._ Of course it is, and I give her hand a little squeeze to reassure her. She starts a steady stroll down the grass, and I follow a pace or so back until I catch up, before blurting out a compliment.

 

“I think you’re great, Sherlock.”

 

She turns beet red and chokes. “Where did that come from?”

 

“I mean, I’ve been thinking it kind of nonstop for the last few months and this is the first time that I’ve gotten to tell you, because I don’t think you hear it enough.”

 

“What makes you think I need to hear it?”

 

“Just a hunch.”

 

She snorts again but ducks her head and smiles to herself, toothless and shy.

 

_Another second, you’ll be walking on my wild side._

I can feel her pulse against my hand and my heart flutters.

 

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

 

“You’re better.”

 

“In some ways.”

 

_You know I’m ready for anything to happen._

 

“Modesty? From Sherlock Holmes?”

 

“Shhh, don’t go letting on!”

 

“I never thought I’d see the day.”

 

“You don’t even know me that well!”

 

“I know you well enough to know that you think you’re superior in every way to other human beings.”

 

“That’s not true!”   


“Oh really? Then how come every time Phillip gives an answer in class you whisper _idiot_ in a voice conveniently loud enough for the entire class to hear?”

 

“Because he is an idiot. His answers are wrong every time and he feels the need to call out poor Sally when she does nothing but get a calculation wrong. I don’t see him raising his hand to try out the hard questions.”

 

“But Sally’s not an idiot?”

 

“Oh, she’s an idiot too. You’d have to be to be banging Phillip. She’s just not as much of one.”

 

_Take this passion, turn it into action._

 

“She’s having sex with Phillip?”

 

“Obviously.”

 

_Right where I want you, back against the wall._

 

“How can you tell?”

 

“Philip’s left-handed but his homework is corrected on a regular basis by a right-handed person using the same pen. Also, Sally doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who wears Old Spice by choice.”

 

I giggle without meaning too.

 

“That’s amazing.”

 

“That’s not what people usually say.”

 

“Well, who cares what other people say? I don’t think you do.”

 

“I try not to.”

 

“Well, that’s a start, then.”

 

_Trust when I promise, never let you fall._

 

The rain has cleared and the sun is breaking through the clouds. I can hear the traffic from the main road, but before I can ask where she thinks we should go she plops herself down on a bench in front of the mathematics library.

 

_Right where I want you, back against the wall._

 

She pats the spot next to her, as if asking me to sit, which I do. Her hand sits there, palm up, open, and I place mine inside of it. She squeezes it, brings it to her mouth, and kisses it.

 

“I really like you, John Watson.”

 

“I really like you, Sherlock Holmes.”

 

_You can trust me, I’ll never let you fall._

 

“Do you want to get coffee later?” I ask.

 

“Do you want to solve crimes with me?” she asks.

 

“That sounds amazing. Coffee first?”

 

“Sure.”

 

_You can’t stop desire, oh oh oh oh oh._

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
